


heaven is

by nightbloods



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Secret Santa Fic, fluffy fluff, mild holiday cheeriness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloods/pseuds/nightbloods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>felicity is curled delicately against his side, cheek pressed into his shoulder and hair tickling his neck, legs all tangled up in his. she's still sleeping, despite her usual tendency to be up before the sun. oliver's arm is wrapped gingerly around her back, lightly toying with the edge of the gauze under her shirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heaven is

**Author's Note:**

> written for the olicity secret santa on tumblr. can be read alone or as a sort of follow up to into the light, as they were written at the same time so they fit together pretty well, i think. merry christmas!

_"heaven_   
_is her body when it is_   
_not leaving your body_

_when it is not leaving_   
_at all"  
_ **\- "heaven is",[caitlyn siehl](alonesomes.tumblr.com)**

 

it's been daylight for hours when oliver finally gives up trying to sleep any more. the late morning sun has the bedroom halfway lit up, just shadowed enough for a few hours of comfortable dozing. his body is itching to move, missing its morning run or workout, but oliver doesn't budge, completely content to stay in bed for the rest of the day. it's been too long since he's been home.

felicity is curled delicately against his side, cheek pressed into his shoulder and hair tickling his neck, legs all tangled up in his. she's still sleeping, despite her usual tendency to be up before the sun. oliver's arm is wrapped gingerly around her back, lightly toying with the edge of the gauze under her shirt.

christmas was four days ago. it's been three weeks since he watched her flatline in the back of an ambulance, still wearing his mother's ring; he held onto her hand like she couldn't leave him if he didn't let go. he felt her pulse die underneath his fingers. and then he felt it start again.

he sat beside her bed in a stuffy hospital room for nine days, listening to doctors and nurses tell him over and over again that it was her body's natural response to shut down after such a trauma, focusing only on its most basic functions. "she's a fighter," donna had told him, and oliver nodded like he didn't know that already, like felicity smoak isn't the strongest person he's ever met.

she woke up on a friday, sometime in the middle of the night while oliver slipped in and out of sleep, slumped over to rest his head on the edge of the thin mattress. he woke to a familiar hand stroking through his hair. it felt like breathing for the first time in years, seeing her eyes open again. she rasped a few words, teasing him for how he'd let his scruff grow out.

"you look like santa's little biker brother," she'd said, letting out a breathy morphine laugh as her fingers wandered down to his jaw. oliver closed his eyes against the tears, turning his head into her palm to press a watery kiss to her warm skin.

felicity's smiled dropped away, wide eyes turned to concern. "don't cry," she slurred, "christmas is supposed to be _happy_."

oliver choked on a laugh that bubbled up out of him without warning, something only felicity could manage. her eyelids were already starting to droop, painkillers pulling her back into sleep. her clumsy fingers tangled themselves around his and oliver stood to press a fierce kiss to her forehead before she fell asleep again.

her recovery went smoothly after that, because there is nothing felicity does that she doesn't excel at. a week after she woke up, they were told she'd be home in time for new year's.

oliver took her home yesterday, pushed her wheelchair out of the hospital while she babbled about making him her own personal slave. "anything for you," he'd said, masking nothing as the smile on his face spread when thea poked him in the ribs. "you're so whipped."

all the hanukkah decorations were still up when they got back to their apartment. no one had been there to take them down once the holiday was over, and no one really minded leaving them for the time being. the group hung around for a while, appreciating not having to mourn another of their own. they stayed until felicity announced that she was exhausted; oliver carried her up to the bedroom, and they've hardly moved since.

now, it's almost noon and felicity is only just starting to wake up. oliver lets her take her time; she'd had a hard time sleeping in the hospital. even once they were home, she woke him a few times during the night when it was time for her painkillers, but there hadn't been any nightmares and while oliver knew the quiet night had been the exception rather than the rule, he was still glad to see her get through the night easily.

oliver watches her start to stir beside him and sweeps stray curls away from her face until she blinks up at him; her hair bounces back to frame her face again and like it always does, it makes him smile.

"good afternoon," he says, still smiling, and he knows he has to be looking at her like she's given him the world but he can't help it; he came too close to losing this.

felicity makes a sleepy noise that's almost a laugh, and glances over his shoulder at the clock on the nightstand. "it's still morning for eighteen more minutes." her nose crinkles up in that way it does when she's happy and oliver could save the world ten times over, but his proudest accomplishment would always be being the person responsible for that.

she stretches her legs before tucking her toes back between his calves and shifts towards him, crinkly nose and happy eyes disappearing as she hisses painfully, her whole body tensed.

oliver is hovering over her before she can blink, fingers featherlight over her bandages to make sure they're still in place. she lets out a breath and wraps a hand around his wrist, pulls it up to lace her fingers between his when his eyes flash up to hers.

"i'm okay, oliver," shes holds his gaze until his face relaxes, and she never says anything about his hairpin trigger when it comes to her, especially now. he's been on top of her if she so much as winces these past several days, but she can't bring herself to be annoyed by it.

"does it hurt?" he asks once he's carefully fitted her body back against his; he whispers it into her hair like he hopes the question might get lost there.

the bandages wrap all the way around her abdomen, hiding away two bullet-sized holes in her stomach. two more scars to add to her collection that is already too large.

"i'm okay," felicity says again, giving him a drowsy smile that's all softness and sleep even though she's more awake now.

"yeah, you are." he mutters into her hair, pressing his lips to her temple and lets them linger there.

\--

they celebrate christmas seven days late, wrapped in blankets and opening gifts on the balcony while they wait for the fireworks to start. the christmas tree still stands proudly in by the fireplace, felicity's menorah fully lit on the kitchen table.

oliver pulls felicity into his lap and bands his arms around her middle. she's healing, doesn't need him to carry her anywhere anymore (not that he's stopped doing that just yet). he lays his palm flat against where the two bulletholes are and sends up a prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening, eternally grateful for her comfortable weight in his arms, warm and alive.

the first firework shoots across the sky, light catching in the diamond on felicity's left hand; proof and promise that no matter what happens, they'll keep surviving. they'll survive together.


End file.
